


WET-DRY VINYL

by thoughtsdemise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Flirty Smartass Aide, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Mech/Mech, Sex Accident, Squeaker Content, sticky sex - more or less, suggestive talk, things put where they should not be put
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/pseuds/thoughtsdemise
Summary: Wet derma and mesh applied to vinyl then left to dry will result in an uncomfortable predicament.





	

Ambulon yelps as a vinyl-wrapped spike is shoved into his valve.  He buried his head into the back of the couch as Pharma pulls to give it one more go to insert himself and the vinyl deeply into Ambulon.  The Delphi CMO sighs with relief when he is able to slide home into the ward manager’s stuffed port.  He makes a mental note to send Kaon a thank you comm for this wonderful suggestion.

Pharma narrows his optics and enjoys the soft caress of the micro fibers on his cord as Ambulon’s valve contracts about the outer vinyl fabric.  The ward manager grunts a bit from the odd feeling but makes no other vocal protest to the foreign invasion.  Pharma runs a hand down Ambulon’s back in a stroking slow pet to reward his silence.  The ex-Decepticon certainly knew how to cut the power to his vocalizer and when to amp that power up to get the perfect pitch for his screams.  The chief medic frowns as his ward manager shifts his knees into a wider stance to relieve some of the building pressure within his valve and along the back of orange thighs from where the flyer was deeply pressed.

Blue fingers yank on wires in a hip joint in punishment for the movement.  Pharma rests one hand along the back of the couch when Ambulon stills.  He shutters his optics and reveals in the tight clench of the valve around his spike as he pushes his full weight into the ward manager who groans but makes no other movements.

Pharma grins wolfishly at the stilled frame and pulls his hips back.  Or at least he attempts to pull his hips back.  Ambulon’s own fingers dig into the couch to steady himself as Pharma jerks backward in an failed attempt to begin thrusting.  He huffs a grunt and clings to the safety of the metal mech wincing as the flyer tries again to dislodge his erection from the clenching port.

“Let go, Ambulon.”  Pharma’s voice dips into a dangerous register as he stalls his movements.  When one last sharp tug fails to free his spike, he presses forward with all of his weight, hoping the movement with jar the choking hold loose.

“Primus!  Pharma, stop moving!”

Ambulon tears into the mesh of the cushion and locks his frame against the thrusting motions.  His valve contracts around the sticking scrape of the vinyl.  He chuffs a relieved ex-vent when Pharma finally stops trying to free his spike.

Droplets of moisture condense along Ambulon’s heated painting.  The ward manager wearily lifts his helm to look at his boss over his shoulder.  Pharma gives him a look he’s becoming very familiar with since seeking asylum within the Delphi medical facility.  It was the “DJD is just a comm call away, you fool, so you better not frag up” look that the chief medic only pulled out when he was very annoyed with the ex-Decepticon.  He flexes the plates along his spinal strut while carefully rearranging himself on the couch so that he could reach between his own legs to stroke his own anterior node. 

_ Primus forbid Pharma actually did it before he jacked in,  _ Ambulon grumbles to himself as he swipes two fingers against his node.  His optics unfocus as rolls the node on the tip of a digit.  His free hand slides over the couch’s cushion back in a slow wave.  He stills his vocalizer on the designation that he wants to mutter in the charging fantasy undulating through his pleasure circuit board.  His fingers knead the mesh as he reaches back further to slip two digits along the rim of his valve and thumb depresses the node in a ghosting roll.  He gasps on the charge building in his systems.  His denta worries his lip on a louder moan.  A trickle of lubricant seeps along the vinyl.  He just needed a little time to-

Pharma grabs Ambulon hips in a bruising dent.  “You are taking too long, Ambulon.  In this instance force is the necessary step to remove oneself from this predicament; like ripping off a temporary mesh covering.  The right amount of force applied will,” Pharma grunts, “free what is stuck!”

Ambulon’s hands flail desperately to get ahold of anything to stop him from teetering back with Pharma’s forceful pull back.  The flyer squawks in indignity when a ped slips in a small dribble of lubricant.  His arms pinwheel as he loses his footing, taking Ambulon with him in his fall.  Several audio are blown out from the resulting scream and crack when the ward manager and chief medic impact the ground, altering the other medic that he needed to respond to an emergency in progress.

==0==

“It’s not funny, Aide.” 

Ambulon tries to put on his best scolding look for the young medic.  His helm rest on his forearms and tries not to look over at the corner of the med bay where Pharma sits in cooling gel bath surrounded by medical records he’s not reading and working on because he was so hopped up on painkilling codes it was a surprise to both Ambulon and Firstaide their chief medic was conscious at all.  The outrageous joy in Aide EM field is rather infectious though as Pharma babbles nonsense.  Despite the fact that the young medic was going to have to go through all those medical reports again to fix what his doped up boss was messing up, he was in very high spirits.

“Oh come on, Lon!  You gotta admit it’s funny, and it’s not like Pharma won’t be getting a new spike out of this deal so he’s not gonna be bitching too long.”  The grounder chuckles when he hears the flyer strike a high off cord on an old bawdy folk song.  “Primus, Lon, please tell me you’ve got the drones recording again.  This is too good to let go to waste.”

“A spike fracture is not a laughing matter, Aide.  ”

“Pfft.  Yeah, yeah.  Not like it ain’t gonna be fixed, Lon.”

Ambulon makes a disgusted sound but smiles at the inappropriately happy Firstaide.  And while he made a mental note to make certain to wipe all traces of evidence of tonight’s escapades from existence in the official records, he also conceded on a personal note to give Aide a copy for his own amusement.  Oh alright and maybe for future blackmail when Pharma started riding Aide’s aft a little too hard again.  The young ambulance flutters his optical sensors’ lights at Ambulon in amusement when he pulls the last of the vinyl fibers from the ward manager’s valve with tongs.

“There all done!”

“Ah!  FIRSTAIDE!!”  Ambulon squawks with outrage as Aide smacks his aft playfully.

The young medic dances away from the angry lunge and swipe with a suggestive twinkle behind his optical band and wiggle of fingers.  “Next time you need somebody to get you revved up enough you could fill a wash basin, you chime my private comm.”  One side of the optic band dims in a clear wink to the gaping Ambulon.  “I’ll always take good care of you, Lon.”

The ward manager’s helm impacts the berth as he tries to hide from the pleasure lazily petting his field from Aide’s.  That fragger always knew what buttons to push to get Ambulon going.  He shifts on the berth as a charge filters into his systems.   _ Slag you to the pits, Aide! _  He tries not to look to the side to watch the inviting swing of the ambulance’s hips or the way he leans over while keeping his legs in a fine straight line or… Ambulon makes a distressed noise and covers his head trying to drive the charge from his systems so he wouldn’t attempt to jump the junior medic when he wondered by.  He was on berth rest for the next half a day.   _ This is going to be a long one, _ he mutters to himself as he catches sight of those turning hips from a lateral sensor.  A dose of pleasure and lust being pushed against his field from even a fair distance away.


End file.
